


You'll Find Me Looking Over the Edge of the World

by TeenCaterpillar



Series: Harringrove Snippets [7]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Feels, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Gay yearning, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Neil Hargrove Being an Asshole, Pining Billy Hargrove, Pre-Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Recreational Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22474720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeenCaterpillar/pseuds/TeenCaterpillar
Summary: Billy threw the bottle of tequila onto the ground where it smashed, glass exploding out.  The remaining alcohol seeped into the dirt and he stood up, walking to the edge of the quarry.  It was a long drop down.  Billy swayed a little, looking down, down, down, wondering what kind of noise he’d make when he hit the water.There was a gust of wind that ruffled the curls on the top of his head and Billy felt tears welling up again.  Today had been going so well.  He’d aced his test in Chem, as he knew he would, had been fawned over by girls, been envied by boys, and had even gotten a nod from Harrington.  It was like floating, he’d been so close to actually being kindahappy; he supposed that’s why his father had been itching for him to make a mistake.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Harringrove Snippets [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506065
Comments: 19
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was sad and wanted to wallow so I wrote some angst.  
> Billy is a sad rat boy who needs some good lovin'.
> 
> He wants to know what love is.
> 
> Unbeta'd

Billy flew out of the house, anger coursing through his veins making him feel like he was on _fire_. His father shouted after him, but the pounding in his ears was too loud for him to hear. Not that it mattered anyway. Not like _anything_ fucking mattered.

He drove to the Quarry. Pulled the bottle of tequila from his trunk. Sat on the hood of his car drinking and drinking and drinking. It was spring, but still so _fucking_ cold. The tequila helped with that, at least. Billy angrily rubbed at his eyes, ignoring the prickling of tears. Men don’t cry. Men aren’t fucking _pussies_ who _cry about a haircut_.

He sucked in a breath and hunched over, feeling nothing and absolutely _everything_ all at once. He felt so empty, fucking _hollow_ , but he was also burning up inside. There was nothing for him in this world except to be the angry asshole who’ll one day, hopefully, wrap himself around a tree and do everyone else a favor. Billy hiccuped a sob before biting his bottom lip. It made him so angry, that he had to suffer this, that Max didn’t have to because she was the _good_ one. But he must have deserved it. He always fucked up, anyway.

God, he just wished that he had _something_. Something to fucking look forward to. Hope felt like something distant, something out of reach, But he had nothing. Well, he kind of had one thing. Though that was kind of torture too. Watching Steve Harrington from afar, because beating the shit out of someone kind of made it hard to be friends, and besides, he’d promised Max he would leave her friends alone. But sometimes it made it easier to get up in the morning knowing he’ll at least get to look at him.

Fucking _pathetic_.

Billy threw the bottle of tequila onto the ground where it smashed, glass exploding out. The remaining alcohol seeped into the dirt and he stood up, walking to the edge of the quarry. It was a long drop down. Billy swayed a little, looking down, down, down, wondering what kind of noise he’d make when he hit the water.

There was a gust of wind that ruffled the curls on the top of his head and Billy felt tears welling up again. Today had been going so well. He’d aced his test in Chem, as he knew he would, had been fawned over by girls, been envied by boys, and had even gotten a nod from Harrington. It was like floating, he’d been so close to actually being kinda _happy_ ; he supposed that’s why his father had been itching for him to make a mistake.

But it wasn’t even really a mistake. All Billy had been doing was fixing his hair in the mirror. It had been humid today and it fucked with his curls, even with spray. So he had paused a few times in the hallway, fixing his curls in the mirror as he passed, and after the fifth time his father had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and asked,

“Are you done acting like some faggot?” Billy had tensed up, _Sorry, sir_ ready on his tongue, but his father beat him to the punch. “Actually, I think I’m done with watching you fawn over yourself like a god damn queer.” And he’d pulled Billy into the bathroom, ignored his pleas to stop and his swears of _I’ll stop, Dad, please, please don’t_ , twisted his longer curls in his fist, and cut them off. Had hissed, “Stop crying you fucking pussy.” Had slapped Billy when he didn’t stop crying fast enough.

And Billy had fucking high tailed it. Would probably get a few smacks for running away from his father.

He scrubbed at his eyes again, staring down at the water. It was high up, the water below definitely freezing. Billy wondered if it would make him as numb outside as he was inside. He shuffled a little closer, tipping some pebbles over the edge.

It’d be so easy. So _fucking_ easy. And the worst part was, no one would care. He’d die, they’d cry, and in a week he’d be old news. They probably would even report it as an accident.

“Dumb Drunk Teenager Falls to His Death After Getting Drunk Alone, Like the Piece of Shit He Is,” Billy muttered to himself. That’d be the headline. People would say they saw it coming, that he was always getting into trouble. That it was a shame, but not a surprise. His family would probably celebrate, honestly.

There was another gust of wind, and Billy shivered. He was so tired. So goddamn tired. He lifted his foot and stuck it over the edge--

_**”Dude!”** _

And he was being pulled back, arms wrapped around his waist. The shift surprised him and he stumbled, making them both fall back, the person behind him letting out a wheeze when Billy landed on them. Billy scrambled to get up, both angry and kind of humiliated that someone had seen him. And of course, of _fucking_ course, it had to be Harrington. He looked up at Billy, concern and anger on his face.

“Hargrove, what the fuck?!” And, you know, he really didn’t fucking _need this_. So he turned his back on him.

“Go away, Harrington,” he said, trying for his usual acerbic tone, but barely mustering more than a sad monotone.

“What were you doing by the ledge? How drunk are you, man?” Steve stood and didn’t leave. He approached Billy, getting into his space. Billy moved away when Steve spoke again. “And what happened to your hair? I hope you didn’t tip whoever cut it.”

“Fuck off, Harrington!” Billy snarled, pushing him back and getting into his space again because _fuck_ , he did _not need this right now_. “I was just-- just--” He exhaled sharply through his nose, some of the fight deflating out of him. “Just looking at the water. Leave me alone.” He turned his back again, walking back towards the edge of the cliff. A hand grabbed his elbow and Billy flung himself away, still raw after his father-- “Don’t fucking touch me!” Steve backed up a little, hands up and a pouty frown on his face that Billy _yearned_ to kiss away, which just made him feel worse.

“Seriously? Can you not be a dick for like, one freaking minute?” Billy was glad it was dark because he felt his eyes watering again and he would not let Steve Harrington see him cry.

“No, so just go away,” his voice cracked on the last word, which made Steve’s eyebrows shoot up and Billy turned away, but didn’t move back to the ledge. Steve would probably just reach out again and while Billy wanted him to touch him, he wanted Steve to touch him _so much_ , he wasn’t ready. Not right now.

“Listen,” Steve said, not touching Billy, just coming closer. “Max walkied me and said she was worried about you and--” Billy cackled, and even to him it sounded hysterical.

“What a fucking lie. She hates me, man,” he said, shaking his head. Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Billy didn’t let him speak. “Fuck this, if you won’t leave, I will.” Billy pushed past Steve, heading for his car.

“No way,” Steve replied, getting in his way, but still not touching him and Billy’s heart fucking _ached_ because Steve was so _good_ and he didn’t deserve this kind of care. “You’re way too drunk to be driving right now.”

“Well maybe I’ll wrap myself around a tree and we can all be happy,” Billy spit out. Steve looked like he’d been slapped. Billy swallowed thickly and stumbled back a bit, his _plant your feet_ echoing in his brain, going deep down into the pit where his stomach had been. He’d just been so angry he didn’t even think before he opened his big mouth. Steve was still gaping, like a beautiful dumb fish, so Billy quickly walked away from him, heading for the road. A gentle hand on his shoulder made him jump and Steve quickly let go. When Billy looked at him there was something different on his face. He didn’t look so angry, so put out, and Billy’s heart fluttered because it honest to god looked like Steve Harrington was _worried_. About _him_.

“Did you mean that?” His voice was quiet, gentle. Billy loved and hated it. He didn’t say anything. “Is that why you were--” Steve sucked in a quick breath and looked away, muttering a quick _Jesus_ under his breath. “What’s-- I know we aren’t-- Look,” Steve licked his lips, shuffling from foot to foot, “I’m still pissed at you for messing up my face, and I know that you like, hate me or whatever--”

“Hate you?” Billy almost laughed. “I don’t… I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you always picking on me, man?” Billy shook his head.

“Not enough tequila in the world, Harrington,” he mumbled. Steve made a face and Billy didn’t wanna answer _that_ question. “Look, you did your duty. I’m fine--”

“That’s a fucking lie,” Steve cut in.

“I’m not gonna fucking off myself, okay?” Billy snapped. “Then Max would have to deal with Neil and that’s--” He growled a little and ran a hand over his face. Damn fucking _tequila_.

“Neil? Isn’t that your dad? What do you mean--” And Steve cut himself off, eyes darting to Billy’s poorly cut mullet and, honestly, people don’t give him enough credit. His brow scrunched, like it always did when he was thinking, and Billy couldn’t meet his eye. “You never said who did your hair,” he said, sounding casual, but there was an edge to his voice. Billy didn’t say anything. “Did your dad do that, Billy?”

“I was,” he licked his lips, dry and chapped, “I was fixing my hair.” He sniffed and sucked on his top teeth. “Preening like a _fag_ ,” he spat the word out, venomous, and the words just tumbled out. “And he _didn’t like that_ , oh no, didn’t want a reminder of what a fuck up his piece of shit son is.” He swiped at his nose with his sleeve. “So he took it upon himself to remind me that I’m a fucking _freak_.”

“What the fuck,” Steve breathed out. He chewed on his bottom lip, brow furrowed. Billy saw when the words he had said really sank in. “Wait, are--”

“Please,” he begged and his voice cracked again and Billy really, truly wanted to die. “Don’t ask me that.” Steve was staring at him, his face unreadable. For a while the only sound was Billy’s slightly ragged breathing, but that eventually slowed. Steve just stood there, watching him, before walking forward a few steps. “You can crash at my place tonight, if you want.” Billy snapped his eyes over, a little surprised. “I’ll drive you back to your car in the morning.”

“If I’m not home to pick up Max--”

“Don’t worry,” Steve gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be ready whenever.” Billy wanted to ask what that was about, what it meant, but it wasn’t his place. Steve nodded towards his car and went over, walking backwards to keep his eyes on Billy. “You coming?”

Billy should wait out here, get sober, drive home and sneak back in, face his father in the morning. The longer he stayed away, the worse it’d be after, but--

He followed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is now gonna be chapters cuz this story wants to be written and who am I to deny my muse.  
> I think I'm gonna switch off POVs per chapter, so if that's not your thing, legit, but fair warning.
> 
> Unbeta'd

Steve noticed it now.

The way Billy’s smiles were always mean or lascivious and never reached his eyes. The way he always played shirts on Mondays. The way he was on Max’s ass about being on time. The blank look he got when he thought no one was looking at him. And, Steve supposed, they weren’t. Not really.

Steve wouldn’t be looking if he hadn’t found Billy on the edge of the cliff looking out over the quarry. He’d still just be being civil, giving him an occasional nod, since they were _teammates_ , and then ignoring him as best he could. But now…

Steve rubbed his eyes and groaned, grabbing Nancy’s attention.

“You okay?” She asked, hair tucked behind one ear, brow furrowed slightly. Steve bit the inside of his lip, tapping his fingers nervously on the table.

“You… You ever find out something that like, makes everything kind of click into place, but like, not in the way you were thinking? And it like, totally throws you off?” She tilted her head and Steve licked his lips. He wished he was better at putting together his thoughts. Though it was kind of hard when he couldn’t mention anything about it. Not that he particularly _wanted_ to, but Nancy always knew what to do. But even so, the revelation that Billy Hargrove was Not Okay and maybe, quite possibly, not as straight as he seemed? That might be too much for even _her_.

Also, he’d never gotten confirmation and if their conversation was anything to go off of, he most likely wasn’t going to.

“I mean, yeah?” She set her pen down and Jonathan looked over from his book, curious. “Like when,” she drew in a breath, “When all the Upside Down stuff started, and Mike was hiding El in the basement, I _definitely_ wasn’t thinking that he was harboring a super powered girl from a lab.” She shrugged. “But once I knew, everything made sense. What’s this about?” Steve looked away nervously.

“Nothing,” he said, way too quickly.

“You’re such a bad liar, dude,” Jonathan said, a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay,” Steve said, because he really, _really_ was, “It’s not nothing but I also like, can’t talk about it? ‘Cause it’s, well, it’s about someone else?” He couldn’t stop his voice from repeatedly going up at the end. Fuck, he was nervous.

“Okay,” Nancy replied, nodding slightly. “Well, I can’t really help if I don’t--”

“I stopped someone from jumping off the Quarry ledge last night,” he said, whispering and speaking in a rush. Nancy’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped open. Jonathan’s eyes were wide.

“W-What?” Nancy breathed.

“I can’t say who,” Steve said quickly, “But like, I’m pretty sure they were gonna and like, it wasn’t someone you’d expect but also it makes a lot of sense? Made their actions a little more understandable?” Nancy’s frown was speaking volumes and it made Steve sweat a little.

“Maybe you should talk to a counselor. Tell them about it and they can reach out--” Steve cut her off with a hand and a sad, airy laugh.

“Yeah, he barely wanted to talk about it with me, much less anyone else.” Steve winced. Fuck, he’d outed them as a he. And Nancy was too damn smart and he sincerely hoped she wouldn’t figure it out or think too hard about it. Her pursed lips and she stared at him, gaze unblinking. Then, her eyes widened a fraction and she moved to turn around, but Steve grabbed her arm gently. “No no no no,” he hissed, nervous. His eyes ficked over to Billy’s table, but he wasn’t looking at them. Mostly he seemed to be zoning out, gazing out the window while Tommy yapped about something. Steve looked back at Nancy. She looked thoughtful and concerned.

“What?” Jonathan looked between them, confused. Nancy waved his question away, focusing on Steve.

“Seriously? Him?”

“Who?” Jonathan asked.

“Fuck, he’ll kill me,” Steve groaned, dropping his head in his hands.

“Wait--” Jonathan said, cutting himself off with a strangled noise. “Hargrove?” He had enough sense to whisper at least. Steve slumped into the table. So much for not spreading Billy’s business. He was such a piece of shit. Steve thunked his head once, as punishment.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he repeated. “I never should have asked, you guys are too smart for your own good.” He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, barely caring as he mussed it up by tugging at it nervously. “You can’t tell _anyone_ , okay? I shouldn’t have even told you guys--”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Nancy said, voice firm. “And,” she looked a little pinched, disapproval on her face, “I won’t ask any more questions.” Steve smiled weakly. “For now,” she amended.

“I just,” he sucked in a breath, “It makes sense, you know?”

“Not...really?”

“I mean,” Steve made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, “Like, when you’re hurting, sometimes… sometimes you hurt other people because you want them to feel the way you do.” His mind flashed back to Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler, breaking Jonathan’s camera, the things he had said about _Will_ , and for a moment, he couldn’t meet either of their eyes. “Well, maybe you guys don’t, uh, don’t feel that, but--”

“I get it,” Nancy said, placing her dainty hand on Steve’s. Jonathan clapped a hand on his shoulder. They were quiet until Nancy cleared her throat. “What are you going to do, then?” Steve shrugged.

“Well, I told him he could like, crash at my place when he needed to. I don’t think that he’ll take me up on the offer though.” Steve’s eyes drifted to Billy, who had that stupid, mean smile on his face. The one that made him look like hardened plastic. Fake. “If I can change,” he said quietly, “Then I think he can too.”

\--

Steve twiddled his fingers anxiously, his foot bouncing as he leaned against his car, waiting for the Party. He usually drove them all home, all except Max. Billy was still in his car, smoke drifting out of the driver’s window. Steve itched to go talk to him, had been since Billy had--

He shook the thought away, since it made his stomach clench uncomfortably. Billy wasn’t his favorite person, but Steve had always assumed that Billy did what he did for fun. Because he was an asshole. The thought made guilt rise like bile in his throat and he shuddered a little. It just went to show that you never knew what was going on behind closed doors.

There was a ruckus and the Party came out, Dustin and Lucas arguing about something. Max waved goodbye and went for Billy’s car, but Steve stopped her, far enough away that Billy wouldn’t hear them.

“Can I ask you something really quick?” His eyes darted behind him, towards the camaro. Billy’s head was turned in the opposite direction. Max narrowed her eyes, but gave a quick nod.

“Thanks for the other night,” she said. “Did he bother you about it?” Steve shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s not it, uhm,” and fuck, he really hadn’t thought this through enough, “Is-- Is your dad, uh, _hard_ on him?” He tried to ask without saying it, but judging by the look on her face, Max understood what he meant.

“I shouldn’t--” She cut herself off, frowning deeply. Steve sucked in a breath.

“If anything-- If he ever needs-- Call me, okay?” He put his hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze and she looked at him, biting her lip.

“I know he’s an asshole, but he doesn’t-- He doesn’t _deserve_ that.”

“Honestly, I think it’s part of, if not _the_ reason, he’s such an asshole.” The horn of the camaro blared, making them both jump. When they turned Billy was frowning, looking a little pissed.

“Hurry the fuck _up_ , Maxine!”

“I’m coming!” She shouted back. She gave Steve a look and then darted to the car. Steve couldn’t hear anything but some muffled yelling, but he didn’t miss the way Billy looked at him, anger and something like fear on his face. Steve just waved, Billy’s scowl deepening, and watched them speed out.

Dustin leaned on the beamer’s horn.

“Steve! Let’s go! We’re missing prime arcade time!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy tries to escape but crashes right back to where he was. But maybe Steve can keep him from being swallowed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy's POV  
> Unbeta'd  
> Sorry this took foreverrrrrr,,, hope y'all enjoy!  
> Billy uses coke in this, makes some bad decisions, and I just wanted to be clear that I personally have never done coke. So it's portrayal is based on what I've heard from people who have and reading up on things. I do plenty of drugs but this one scares me a lot specifically for the comedown so,,,
> 
> Anyway. Just in case it's horribly wrong.

When Billy arrived at school with short hair, the uneven part his father had left straightened out by him in his mirror, it had been _news_. Rumor had it that he did it for a girl. That he had gotten tired of the upkeep.

Billy let them believe what they wanted. It was better that way.

It’d been the talk of the school for way too long, small towns were so fucking _boring_ , and Billy was glad when they switched to talking about Stacey K’s party that weekend. He liked attention, was glad when he could make someone look at him, even if they didn’t see him, but he liked it on _his terms_. Not because there was nothing else of note happening in this town.

Except--

Billy stole a glance at Harrington's table. He hadn’t said anything to Billy since that night. Hadn’t said anything to _anyone_ , apparently. Except Max. The thought made him scowl and he looked away before Byers or Wheeler noticed him looking. Max hadn’t said what she and Steve had talked about, even with Billy hounding her. Had just yelled at him to mind his own business, which was _rich_ , but he still hadn’t talked to her about apparently being _worried_ about him, so he had just left it. Hadn’t wanted to take the energy to care.

He wondered if Harrington had been lying. Had been coming out for a drink or a smoke and then found Billy and didn’t want to fess up. But that didn’t make any sense. It made even _less_ sense than Max giving a minute, tiny little shit about him.

“Dude, are you even listening to me?” Tommy’s whiney voice cut through his thoughts and Billy’s eyes snapped over to him.

“Fuck no,” Billy replied. Tommy turned red and the table laughed, just like Billy knew they would. “There gonna be any drugs besides weed at this party? Or are y’all pussies out here?” The table tittered, the girls rolling their eyes and the guys trying _really_ hard to pretend like they’d done more than some shitty weed and acid in their parents’ basements. Though, Billy would take some shitty acid over some shitty weed anyday.

“I think Stacey said her brother is coming from Chicago,” Tina piped up. She leaned forward on the table so her tits were on display. Billy made a show of looking and dragging his eyes away. “He’ll probably bring some coke if she asks. They’re rich enough anyway.”

“Sweet. Maybe things will actually get _fun_.” Billy smiled, mean and cutting, wishing the embarrassment coming off the group filled the empty pit inside him more than it did.

\--

By the time Friday rolled around, Billy was on edge. Wheeler had been giving him these _looks_ , like she _knew_ , and it made his skin crawl. He’d leered and sneered when he caught her, but she’d always just roll her eyes, no longer looking down her prissy nose at him. He didn’t like it.

Harrington hadn’t asked him anything else about that night, which should have been nice, but instead made Billy’s stomach sink. He wanted him to care. Wanted him to ask and ask and ask until Billy finally broke down and let it out. But he also wanted-- He wanted--

Billy knocked his hairspray off his makeshift vanity, reveling in the way it clattered loudly against the wall.

“Cut it out!” His father’s voice was loud, coming from right behind the door, and Billy hated the way it made his palms sweat.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” he replied automatically. He didn’t move again until he heard his father’s footsteps heading down the hall.

\--

Stacey’s brother _did_ bring coke.

Which was how Billy found himself outside with no shirt, barely able to feel the cold prickling his skin, as beer and spit dribbled from his mouth. He’d beat his own keg stand record.

“Long live the king!” Tommy cheered, slapping Billy on the back. Billy roared, the crowd of his peers chanting his name around him. His head was buzzing, the mix of coke and alcohol making everything brighter. Every touch was like fire on his skin, every stare an extra thrill, every grope _welcome_. He felt hot all over, sweat dripping down his temple, but he went back inside anyway. Back to the throng of bodies pressed together, dancing having devolved into horny grinding hours ago. Tina found him in the kitchen, chugging water, and pressed up against his back, arms wrapping around his waist.

“Hey there,” she slurred, her voice pitched high and breathy. Billy turned his head ever so slightly, stretching his face into a grin. “Stacey’s parent’s bedroom is free,” she giggled. Her arms tugged on his waist, pulling him away from the counter. Billy’s skin was on fire, each nerve lit up, so he let her drag him upstairs. Let her pull him into Stacey’s parent’s bedroom. He let the alcohol and the drugs take his mind off the fact that he wanted a different body under his hands, wanted to be tasting a different skin, one littered with moles.

“Gonna go see if they’ve got any more of that coke left,” Billy grumbled after, tugging his jeans back on. Tina pulled her panties on, taking her time getting dressed, and shot him an intense look.

“So, we’ll do this again sometime?” She tried to sound casual, but there was a hopeful desperation that almost made Billy feel sorry for her. Almost.

“Sure, whatever.” He was dismissive at best in his tone, especially if her face was anything to go by, and he quickly left, unable to face the consequences of his own actions tonight. When he got downstairs, he was quick to find Stacey’s brother. He was a sophomore in college and a little too bony for Billy’s tastes, but easy enough to sneak the last baggie off of, his pupils blown as he talked a mile a minute about something Billy did not give a shit about.

Once Billy had had a couple good bumps, he made his way back out to the backyard for a smoke. There was still a decent sized group outside, but there was a nice isolated spot at the edge of the lawn under a young tree where Billy planted himself. The first drag was almost euphoric, the head rush when he exhaled absolutely orgasmic. He smiled to himself, mind going a mile a minute. It was unfortunate, because he suddenly found himself thinking about Harrington. About where he was and what he was doing. Billy’s breath hitched as Harrington’s lips came into his mind, so pink and plump, would look so good wrapped around his--

“Hey.” Billy jumped, having zoned out enough that he hadn’t noticed anyone approach. He spun around and Harrington was there, eyes wary but not afraid. Billy’s heart was beating so fast it felt like it was gonna pop out of his chest. He licked his lips and looked away, unable to take the intensity in his brown eyes. He took a shaky drag from his cigarette, grunting in acknowledgement. “How’s the party?” He took a step closer and Billy’s eyes darted back to his face. Billy wasn’t sure what his emotion was, anxiety starting to overgrow his confidence.

“S’Good,” he replied, voice slurred. He looked away again, chest tight. It was getting a little hard to breathe. He wished Harrington would just get to whatever point he wanted to make and _leave_.

“Yeah? That why Tina was crying about what a pig you are?” His voice wasn’t judgemental, but there was an edge to it. A question. Billy winced.

“That’s… unrelated.” He took another drag before instinctively holding out the cigarette to Steve. Blinked a little at how much better his first name would probably feel on his lips. Steve looked shocked, but took it and brought it to his lips. Billy couldn’t watch anything else but the way his lips wrapped around the filter and how his cheeks hollowed a little as he sucked. It took all his will power to look away before Steve noticed.

“Thanks,” Steve said, smoke curling from his mouth as he spoke. Billy swallowed and nodded, taking the cigarette back. He didn’t reply because he wasn’t sure he could trust his voice. Steve didn’t say anything, looking back at the house with a furrowed brow. Billy just wanted this to be _over_.

“Listen,” Billy said, licking his lips. “Not to be rude, but what do you want?” His voice was sharper than he meant, and Steve’s head snapped back around, eyebrows raised. He looked annoyed for only a moment, before seeing _something_ in Billy, and relaxing.

“Well,” he said, face flushed from the cold, “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” Billy’s heart stuttered and he took a quiet, sharp inhale of breath.

“Fine,” he replied. Because he was. Fine. Enough, at least. His father hadn’t bugged him again, just locked him in his room at 9:30 each night. He was hollow in the kind of way he was used to, where he could press his feelings down and ignore everything but the anger that kept him warm. Steve looked unimpressed. It might have been because of the way Billy’s hands were shaking. He tossed the butt on the ground and mashed it into the dirt with the toe of his boot.

“Right,” Steve replied, drawing out the word sarcastically. Billy frowned, glaring at him.

“I’m fine _enough_ , alright? What, Max call you again?” He rolled his eyes, wanting to go back inside, but not wanting Steve to reach out and try to stop him. Wasn’t sure he could take the feeling of Steve’s skin on his right now. Steve bristled a little.

“No, asshole,” he snapped. He laughed hollowly, shaking his head. “Fuck, I don’t know _why_ I thought this would go any different--”

“Oh sorry,” Billy drawled, rolling his eyes. “Let me cry on your shoulder and then we can braid our hair.”

“Fuck you,” Steve said. “I just thought--”

“What? That I’d _want_ you mother henning me like you do to those shitheads--”

“That you’d want someone to talk to,” Steve said, voice sharp. It struck through Billy, shutting him up. He blinked, thrown off. “That you’d want just like, _one person_ who you didn’t have to lie to. One person who _knew_ , who cared--” Steve sucked on his teeth, arms crossed. Billy watched, unable to do much more than sway on his feet and stare. It sounded like _Steve_ wanted that. But Billy was high. Billy was _drunk_ , probably imagining things. Steve shook his head, muttered a quiet _whatever_ , and began to walk away. He was halfway back to the house when Billy found his voice.

“Harrington,” he slurred. Steve paused, looking back at him over his shoulder. “I’m--” He paused, biting the inside of his lip, massaging it with his teeth. Steve came back over, frow burrowed.

“Dude, you’re gonna make yourself _bleed_ ,” he said once he was close enough, smartly gesturing instead of touching. “How much coke did you take?”

“Too much,” Billy said honestly with a shrug. Steve pursed his lips. “But I can handle--”

“You don’t _have_ to, you know.” Billy snapped his mouth shut with a click, staring at Steve. His face was more open, eyes earnest and it made Billy’s heart clench so tightly in his chest he stumbled a little. Steve grabbed his bicep, steadying him, and Billy swore he felt a current of electricity shoot through him. That Steve’s touch almost burned against his skin, but he _craved_ it, _needed_ it. “Fuck, dude,” Steve muttered in awe.

“I--” Billy wasn’t used to this. To _wanting_ to ask for help. “Look,” he said voice shaky, “I’m not doing _great_ , but I’m not-- I’m not--”

“Okay,” Steve said gently, nodding. “Okay. Do you wanna get out of here?” Billy could feel himself growing hard at just the _thought_ of Steve meaning it _that way_ , but he nodded anyway. He was a glutton for punishment apparently. A real masochist. “Alright, buddy,” Steve said. “Need any help getting to my car?” Billy shook his head. The walk from the backyard to Steve’s car was short, but long enough for Billy to will his chub away. The car was silent as they drove, though Steve kept shooting him these looks, all concerned and curious, and Billy tried to ignore them, fidgeting with his hands and picking at his thumb until it bled. Tried not to let them go to his head.

Steve let them in, gesturing to the kitchen. Billy went in, sitting at the island on one of the fanciest stools he’d ever seen. Horrible, ugly thing, but fancy and obviously expensive. He jumped when Steve set some water in front of him.

“Drink up,” he said. Billy did so, watching Steve. Steve watched back, brows drawn tightly together. “What happened with you and Tina tonight?” Billy choked a little on his water.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Why?”

“I just-- I dunno. I just heard that you did a bunch of coke after going upstairs with her,” Billy would have to find and gut whatever snitch saw him, “And that seemed, I dunno, not great?” Billy sighed and shrugged.

“Thought that me fucking her meant more than it did,” he replied. Steve’s brows shot up. Billy clenched his water glass tighter.

“And it didn’t mean anything, because…” Steve paused, wincing, before looking away. Billy swallowed and counted to ten so he didn’t shatter the glass with his grip.

“I don’t _do_ relationships,” Billy replied hoarsely. He chugged his water and stood. “Where’s your couch?”

“Hargrove,” Steve said, and his voice was so firm, so _commanding_ , that Billy froze. He blinked before turning to look at Steve. He had a pinched look on his face, and Billy was worried he was gonna press, but he didn’t. “We have a guest room.” Billy nodded and tapped his foot, licking his lips almost obsessively.

“Sure,” he replied. He didn’t really want to go to bed, honestly. Couldn’t. But he was sure Harrington didn’t wanna stay up with him, so he let him lead him to the guest room. Steve stood in the doorway watching Billy with narrowed eyes.

“Do you--”

“Good night, Harrington,” Billy said. Steve narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything. He just watched Billy a moment longer before leaving. Billy waited until he heard Steve’s door shut to let out the breath he was holding. He waited another 5 minutes before going back down the stairs and out the back door. He paced by the pool, smoking, as he tried to calm himself down. His skin still itched, still _burned_ from when Steve had touched him. “Fuck,” Billy hissed, kicking the pool chair. It was hard and unforgiving on his toe, making him let out a choked off cry. He collapsed onto the pool chair, head in his hands as his knee bounced uncontrollably. Soon he was gonna crash, and he didn’t want to be inside so close to Steve when it happened. He’d had enough tonight that it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Maybe he should just walk home.

There was a slam of the door and Billy whipped his head around, seeing Steve there, holding a bat and panting, eyes wild. Billy’s blood ran cold and he stood, taking a step back. Steve wasn’t looking at him though, he was looking wildly around, taking steps forward and around the pool. He looked into it, breaths starting to slow down. Arms drooping, Steve leaned his head back and let out a heavy sigh. Finally, he looked at Billy, relieved and concerned.

“What the fuck?” Billy asked. Steve looked at the bat and flushed, dropping it into the pool.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, fishing it out. He walked over and set it on the pool chair, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I uh, I heard something, like you were hurt, and I just--” He ran a hand over his face, looking away. Billy didn’t get it. He was going to ask, but his come down finally landed, finally crashed to the pit, and he fucking _hated_ himself. Hated that he felt so _good_ around Steve, because he didn’t deserve it. Hated that he wanted Steve, that he was so needy for attention _one_ person caring sent his heart soaring. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes and he took a stilted breath, a harsh in and out. Steve looked up, brow furrowing. “Billy?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Billy croaked, slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Are you gonna throw up?” Steve asked, moving closer. “Can I help?”

“No!” Billy said, voice sharp. Steve stopped, blinking. “No,” Billy said, softer this time, “I’m not going to, to throw up.” His voice kept trembling and Steve _had_ to know by now--

“Billy,” he said, eyes searching and gentle. Concerned. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Comedown,” he grit out, tears starting to fall. “Just,” he took a quick shaky breath, “Just go back to bed. I’m--”

“No way,” Steve scoffed, annoyed. “No way I’m leaving you alone like this.” Billy bristled, anguish starting to build in the center of his chest, heavy and hard.

“I’m not going to fucking _drown myself_ in your pool,” Billy snapped. He didn’t expect Steve to stiffen and panic. Didn’t expect him to take a step back, then another, staring into the pool with such grief, such _guilt_.

Of _course_ Billy fucked it up. He always did. Always said the wrong thing, whether on purpose or not.

“Don’t say that,” Steve said, voice low. “Please.” He was pleading, not looking at Billy, so he didn’t see the nod. “Please?”

“Yeah,” Billy breathed out. He wiped at his face, snot starting to build up as the tears flowed more freely. “Fuck,” he hissed to himself. He pushed past Steve and went inside, trying to escape to the guest room. Or maybe he should _really_ just walk home.

“Billy,” Steve called, hand grabbing his elbow. Billy stopped but didn’t look at him, wishing his hair was long enough to cover his face. He just couldn’t. “How can I help?”

“You can’t,” he sighed. “It’s just, well, it’s just gonna suck.” Steve didn’t let go, his face pinched. He looked determined and it made something warm and good build in his stomach. Made his heart feel a little lighter. But it went quickly enough. “Harrington--”

“Let’s watch a movie. Something dumb. How about it.” He wasn’t really asking, was more searching to see if this was the option, or if he needed to try harder. LIke he wouldn’t stop until he found something to distract Billy with. Hope and sadness swirled inside him and he couldn’t think, couldn’t see anything but Steve’s brown eyes, concerned and caring and--

“Okay,” he mumbled.


End file.
